Vegan Tsoureki (Greek Century bread)
Over the last week, I have been cooking my favorite carrot on Easter Sunday. Today is Easter Orthodox, the Easter I grew up with, and I felt it was right to share something that I strongly associate with the holiday. I can't share anything but it's a muscle (τσουρέκι).
Tsoureki should not be Easter bread. It is a delicious, Greek holiday bread that is also shared at other times of the year. When I was growing up, we got twice a year: once on the first day of each year, and once on the Greek Stage. New Year's food had a pen in it, wrapped in wax paper. My mother and I would cut off every member of our nuclear family and family. If the coins had fallen into a tear, it was thought to bring a year full of good luck. (Once, when I complained to my mother that I never received the money, she told me that her father joked that it was indeed bad behavior.)
At Christmas Eve, we found the muscle with hard-roasted red eggs. The bread came from our Greek bakery, but Yaya also made lots of eggs for my favorite game. This was a fun game and I didn't think about the fact that I had to stay awake until midnight on any Greek (I was a morning person too). It consisted of everyone picking up an egg, then egging someone else's egg on the holiday table. If you start out with the outbreak, then your egg will come down from the top, and you'll chant "Chistos Anesti!" (Χριστός Ανέστη, He is up!)
If your egg does not stop, while the other one has cracked and gone inside, he or she will try to break the good side of the broken egg into your lucky egg. Someone will answer, "Alithos Anesti!" (Aληθώς ανέστη, "Rises really!"). If your egg breaks first, you prefer to stay on the positive side of the next round.
It looks pretty cool and confusing right now to write it, but it was fun. I remember several times when I had an egg that seemed invisible, how excited I was to test its strength. I especially remember the great-grandmother's cry for "Christos Anesti!" and "Alithos Anesti!" No one laughs more than she loves when an egg is particularly hard or especially weak. My Yaya played this game the way she did everything: bigger than life, full of gusto.
It's funny to write about all of this, because so many of these practices have happened since my childhood. The game is not two, and neither my mother nor I are a guest for the holidays. If we do, I will no longer be participating in the egg game as a vegan (though I'm sure I can come up with a creative alternative).
Yet, my mother and I keep our traditions in small ways. We always celebrate Easter in Greece, even if that means good food. And my mother still commands Tsoureki herself and, ideally, her family. While my grandmother's friends were still alive, she even took the time to order all of them and get their hands on their home.
As I grow older, I am aware of the fact that I am an expensive culture. I am not sure that I will be good at this job, as my book will never be as thoughtful (as I am exclusively) as my mother is. She's great at planning the holiday things to start with, and she's great at communicating with people like me.
What I can bring to the table is my crazy love of baking bread, not what my mom is and not what I have, either. This is a wonderful year for me to be celebrating the holidays, as I am not spending Greek money for my family. But the crisis gave me time to think about what is important, and this included reviewing my upbringing and appreciation of the cultures I had lost. It makes me want to do something symbolic of Greek mythology, and sharing muscle is the right thing to do.
Tsoureki is a precious dough that reminds me of challah. It is much smaller than challah, but the foundation is the same, and it is also curved. It can be tasted in several different ways: some foods call it orange or orange, some raisins or some sesame seeds. Tsoureki is always on one or both mahlep and mastic, special spices.
I do not want to share it with you in such a clear and concise way; that is impossible, as bread is likely to vary from a family cooking box to a food box like that. I share the muscle that is the most I remember since childhood: light and delicate, sweet but not sweet-y, mahleb fragrance but over and over, they are so easy on the palate (which I find most powerful) when more than a pinch). Our muscle was not in the & # 39; citrus zest & # 39 ;, so my diet does not include any of them, and although I tried to add them, it was a good thing.
I have experienced Goldilocks experimenting with this recipe. Some fats were slightly sweet, or not sweet enough; Sometimes I add too much mahlep, which my mom doesn't like too much, and sometimes it's not even noticeable. I think I finally got it right, but of course my mom will be the one to tell me if that's true.
Vegan Tsoureki (Greek Century bread)
- 4 take it (60 g) vegan butter (substitute 4 tablespoons vegetable oil)
- 1/2 cup non-dairy milk (everything is fine, except for the full fat coconut milk).
- 1/3 cup water
- 4 take it (60 g) aquafaba, lightly beaten *
- 4 cups (480 g) unsalted flour, for a purpose
- 4 1/2 spoon of tea (15 g) Rapid yeast *
- 6 take it (75 g) cane sugar
- 1 spoon of tea (4 g) salt of good salt
- 1 spoon of tea underground (substitute 3/4 teaspoon vanilla extract if you don't have it)
- 1/8 spoon of tea (pinch) ground column (optional)
- 1 take it non-dairy milk
- 1 take it agave or maple syrup
- 1 take it sesame seeds
Mix your dough in a small saucepan. Add non-skimmed milk and water, then return to the pan over low heat. Preheat the oven to 100-115F (or until it is hot to the touch when touching your pinkie finger, but not too painful).
In a large mixing bowl, combine flour, yeast, sugar, salt, horseradish, and mastic.
Add the aquafaba to your liquid mixture, stir, and then add this liquid to your dryer. Use a spatula to combine until the dough is sticky
Turn your dough into a very soft place. Knead the dough for 10-14 minutes, or until your dough is smooth and tender. If it is too sticky when kneading, you can add a little flour to your dough, but try not to add too much. This is a thick dough that is tightly packed throughout, so use a sprayer to help you knead. Alternatively, you can mix your dry ingredients in a baking dish that fits into a dough hook, add your liquid ingredients and knead the dough on a medium scale for about 6-7 minutes. Once again, the dough is ready when ready and perfect.
Transfer the dough to a bucket or lubricating oil and turn the coat one at a time. Cover and let the dough rise for 1-2 hours, or up to double the size (this will depend on your home temperature).
Heat your oven at 350F. Transfer the dough to a lightly floured surface and cut it into three pieces (they will be about 285-300 g each). Roll the rope 19-20 inches in length. Arrange the rope lengthwise towards the bucket angle. The short edges of pasta (and the edges of the ropes) should come in handy. Connect the rope to a 3 piece rope, pressing it at the end when you are done. Place the paper on baking sheet. Allow the muscle to clear for 45-75 minutes, or until noisy. When you gently lift your finger, it should come back, but slowly.
When the dough is finished proofing, add non-dairy milk and agave or maple syrup in a small container. Brush the dough with this kind of vegan egg wash. Transfer the dough to the oven and cook for 20 minutes. Remove the dough from the oven and brush with another layer of egg wash, then sprinkle with sesame seeds. Return to the oven by turning it into a saucepan (baking evenly), then cook for another 20-30 minutes, until golden brown all over (the thermometer should read at least 190F in the middle of the bread). Let it cool on the cooling floor before cutting and serving.
Bread tastes delicious without being taken off the shelf, and anyone who knows the muscle still recognizes it. But I will be lying if I say mahlep is not what gives bread its aroma and flavor. It's unique, and because it's not the spice we often use here in America, you recognize it when it's there.
I found nowhere near a reasonable place for me to go with this holiday, and it seemed to me that it was sold all over the internet. Under normal circumstances, I was fortunate enough to live in a city with a number of ethnic markets with amazing fragrance choices, but when I tried it, the two markets in the Middle East that I know of mahlep can not reach (and they are far too far away). me walking).
I was about to give up the usual custom muscle, when I did one last Google search on the Greek Market, Florida. I was thrilled when I found out they could move to NYC, and I ordered mahlep from them, which is how my muscle tests turned out.
Usually, I feel a little foolish to order a small item like this on a straight line, with shipping costs. But this year, they just felt that it is important to live in the traditional small, but important way. I'm glad I made my own. This wonderful aroma, aroma, sweetness and satisfaction are the result, and I am so excited to offer my mom a glove and tie-free strap. So much has changed since you were a kid, so much has changed in our daily lives so much, much faster. But the muscle – even if it is made – is not.
Celebrating a good Greek holiday with all the excitement. Ανέστη! And I'll see you later this week.
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